while brianna said this wasn't necessarily a party - which dave said, too - and just casual thing, there was way more people than a "casual thing" would have. but hey, you weren't complaining. as long as you had fun, it was worth it.

listening to aubrey's boyfriend, ronny, talk about whatever shit that was on his mind was starting to get boring, though. obviously, he was drunk. or, at the very least, tipsy. no human would talk on and on about one thing for an hour, basically repeating the same thing like a broken record.

so, you headed outside, for some fresh air and a vodka shot with jane. eventually, that one shot turned into.. well, you weren't sure; you lost count after, uh, let's say four shots?

yeah, this would not end up good. but it felt so good to just let go and enjoy yourself, enjoy life while you could, that you forgot about the possible hangover you'd be suffering in the morning when you woke up.

somehow, you'd found yourself lying on the couch, head comfortably resting on the muscle of someone's thigh while you fiddled with the person's fingers - that person, you realized, was dave. with the ridiculous amount of alcohol in the system, the memory loss, in a way, made sense.

the brunet looked down at you, and even though you couldn't see it, as you were staring at the carpet in the living room - which brianna said was strictly off limits, but it didn't seem like anyone had really listened to the rule - you could feel the worry emitting off of him. "you okay, {{user}}?"

"great, actually." you grinned, wide and toothy. "your thigh is a really comfy pillow. why am i finding out about this now?"

"holy shit," he muttered under his breath. "you're so drunk."

"am not," you protested, "i'm a responsible adult, which i hoped you'd be aware of. childhood best friends, dave! we've been friends ever since we were born! you're supposed to know everything about me, hodgman."

responsible adult my ass, he thought to himself.

"okay. yeah. you're not," he agreed, "you're totally not drunk. mhm."